Phobia
by Mutant Goldfish
Summary: Monologues by different characters explaining their phobia. Rather dark humor, but humorous all the same.
1. Dentists

Phobia

Short monologues from random HP characters point of view, discussing their phobia. Most likely humor, but the humor might be a bit dark.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

CHAPTER ONE

Dentophobia- Fear of dentists

It seems rather odd.

I mean, come on, I'm Harry Potter. I should be fighting Voldemort, not fearing dentists.

Yet I am afraid of dentists.

My best friend's parents' are dentists. If you think about it rationally, all dentists want to do is clean your teeth and teach you how to take care of them better.

But if you've ever been to a dentist's office, you just have to smell the place to know that it's evil. If you're really dense, just look around. Tools of pain, knives, picks, not even hidden from view. All over the place. A barely padded seat. An incredibly bright light, shining directly in your face. Tubes of unidentified pastes that the hygienist is just itching to pour all over your teeth.

I've only ever been to the dentist once. That was enough.

Muggle children have get their teeth checked before entering school, so, unwillingly, the Dursleys took Dudley and me. I will never forget it.

For thirty minutes, they poke at your mouth with sharp metal instruments. Then, they fill a weird kind of retainer up with foam and leave it in your mouth for a minute, with an evil tube sucking up whatever oxygen reaches your throat. It took all my strength not to panic.

I have never went back.

I don't have any trouble with brushing my teeth. I brush and floss daily to prevent another trip.

At least I don't need braces.

I hope never to meet Hermione's parents in their natural element. I survived once. I wouldn't last another time.

It's ironic that even though I'm destined to kill Voldemort, it's not him I'm most afraid of. It's not even the dementors.

It's the dentist I fear.

(A/N): Yes, this is a bit of a spoof on the drabbles.


	2. Balding

The word count for the last chapter was, interstingly enough, 333. Did you know that there is a phobia known as Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia that is a fear of the number 666?

CHAPTER TWO

Peladophobia- Fear of bald people

Phalacrophobia- Fear of becoming bald

I, Albus Dumbledore, have never been known to lie.

I may conceal the truth, but I have always had a good reason for my actions.

I fight Voldemort for a strange reason. I'm sure no one else even knows about this.

You may not have noticed this, but Voldemort is bald. He is evil as well, but that is, perhaps, a by-product.

He wants everyone else to be, too.

It sounds outlandish, to be certain, but it is true.

I am 150 years old and I am still not bald. Quite the opposite. My hair is long enough to tuck into my belt. I like my hair. It annoys Voldemort.

I will fight to keep it.

Tom Riddle liked his hair, too. But he didn't know that as the Horcruxes changed his appearances, he would become bald. The whole world-domination thing is just a front. The truth is much more deadly.

He wants everyone bald.

I cannot let the world become that. I must stop him.

A world of bald teenage girls would be a very poor world, indeed.

So I fight.

For if I did not, the whole world would lose its honor, its integrity, and more importantly, its hair.

Not on my watch.


	3. Chickens

This is a strech, but I'll write it anyway. This is not really funny at all, so be warned. Did you know that Petunia might have **arcanophobia**, or a fear of magic?

CHAPTER THREE

Alektorophobia- Fear of chickens

This is a strech.

When I was young, all the children at my primary school called me chicken. I'm not chicken; I'm simply not stupid.

I was, at one time, Head of Slytherin. Don't come to us for bravery. Come to us for cunning.

I'm not a coward, and I don't like be called one.

It shouldn't bother me what one stupid teenager thinks of me; yet it does.

I've known Harry Potter for years, and he never was very bright. I'm not altogether suprised that he came to the wrong conclusion. I'll admit it must have looked extremely bad: Dumbledore, near death from drinking that poison, surrounded by Death Eaters, and I blast him off the tower.

I never could have killed Dumbledore. If I'm intelligent enough to invent my own spells at the age of sixteen, I'm intelligent enough to relise that killing Dumbledore would have extremely serious consquences.

I'm not a chicken, I am smart enough to keep myself alive in this deadly charades I've been thrust into.

Harry Potter should realize this.

Yet he is too blinded by his dislike of myself (not without reason, I'll grant you) to do so. And being the only witness to the events atop the Astronomy Tower, when he presents his verison of the events to the rest of the Order of the Pheniox, they will have no reason to disbelieve him.

I don't care for chickens, their feathers and clucking tends to bother me. I don't apperciate being called one.

I am intelligent enough to regonize my own fears, and yet not let them rule my life, especially if they are unreasonable.

I have no real reason to fear chickens, yet I do.

In a situation this delicate, I can't afford any unreasonable fears.

But I will not be called a chicken.


	4. Dancing

Chorophobia- Fear of dancing

This is probably a good kind of fear to have.

If there is such thing. Even if there isn't, it doesn't get in my way. At least not often.

I'm terrified of dancing.

If any of my brothers found out, I'd be laughed out of the Burrow. If Ginny discovered why I didn't dance AT ALL at the Yule Ball, I'd be laughed off the British Isle.

I don't know what it is about dancing. It's just very frightening, isn't it? You're half-hugging a girl and swinging around to the music... It's horrible!

The only time I've ever danced was at a family reunion. Some cousin brought his girlfriend that I ended up dancing with. I can't even think about it without trembling.

Maybe I'm scared of girls, too. I see them all the time, so it's not that. I just hate dancing with them.

I can dance by myself just fine. Anything like the Hokey Pokey, or that kind of thing. But dancing with a GIRL! I'd rather face You-Know-Who with every Death Eater he's got. Incidentally, that's probably what Harry will have to do. Glad it's not me.

I'm never going to like dancing. This is likely not going to be a problem. The only time I anticipate dancing in the near future is Bill and Fleur's wedding.

I dread the day.

I like Fleur okay, so it's not the wedding. They always have the dance after weddings. I'll just have to make a lame excuse about why I can't dance with Hermione. Perhaps I should break my leg or fall off a broom or something.

Harry would probably be sympathetic to my plight, but I would really prefer no one knew. I might not ever conquer my fear. But it's not that important.

Is it?


	5. Flutes

CHAPTER FIVE

Author's Note: If you play a flute, and might be offended by this chapter, please chill out. I'm sure _you're_ not a ditz, but a lot of the flute players I know are.

Aulophobia- Fear of flutes.

No matter how rationally I think about, flutes scare me deep down inside.

Yes, me. Hermione Granger. Terrified of flutes. Go ahead, laugh.

I know that's very stupid, but I am.I think I know why, too.

I was in the school band when I was in the Muggle school. I played clarinet. All the preppy girls played flute. They'd probably break a nail carrying anything else. They were always laughing and giggling and ruining the practice. They never practiced, or listened to the director. They represented everything I disliked.

They still do.

I like the instrument itself. If I was just looking at a flute, thinking rationally, I wouldn't be bothered. But if someone played it, anyone, just the sound of it sends shivers down my spine. The flutists go around saying that that's the sound you would have heard "a million, billion years ago when cavemen were burying dead people." It's not. They used RECORDERS. Flutes have keys and are made out of metal. "Cavemen" couldn't have made them. Take that.

Still, the sound is pretty unearthly. Perhaps that what's throws me off about flutes. Such a high, spiritual tone combined with such bubbleheaded idiots.

It beggars belief.

I won't ever be able to listen to a flute solo, but maybe if I listen to tapes of orchestras playing, I might be able the stand holding one. I doubt it, though.

I very much hope the last Horcrux isn't guarded by flute-bearing monsters. If so, Harry will be on his own.


	6. Writing

A/N: I know this is weird beyond all belief. Thanks for reviewing, anyway.

Chapter Six

Graphophobia- Fear of writing or handwriting.

I feel rather justified in my fear. At least I have a reason for it.

The teachers don't care if I type my homework, even if it is a bit unusual for a witch. It's easier for them to read. Typewriters function fine on Hogwarts grounds. Everybody wins.

Even Snape lets me tape his lectures and transcript them later. You would expect any excess use of Muggle equipment by a Gryffindor would be a ready-made excuse to dock 50 points. Yet even Snape refrains from comment.

I just can't stand to handwrite anything more than I absolutely must.

It reminds me too much of that diary.

I wrote to Tom Riddle for an entire year. I nearly died. I nearly sold my soul to You-Know-Who. Can anyone blame me for remembering that anytime I am forced to write by hand?

I imagine that's why they all allow me to handwrite as little as possible. If you'd been possessed by the Heir of Slythrien by means of handwriting, you'd avoid quills like plague, too.


End file.
